


The Sweet Law of Compensations

by NerdsLover



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Humor, Pining, Squabbling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-13
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2020-06-27 16:38:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19794811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NerdsLover/pseuds/NerdsLover
Summary: Y/N takes care, in her way, of Greg when he returns from getting hurt by an explosion.





	The Sweet Law of Compensations

**Author's Note:**

> Request from my Tumblr: prompt #12 "Despite what you think, I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself" with Greg Lestrade.  
> I hope you will enjoy it <3

It had been a hell of a week for Detective Greg Lestrade, running everywhere behind Sherlock, trying to understand his mostly nonsensical rambling while avoiding seeming too silly and, incidentally, doing his police officer job.

It had been a hell of a day, rushing around half of London without having any sleep, finding bomb after bomb on his way, calling deminers almost every hour while praying that the consulting Detective wouldn’t explode while Greg was busy trying to keep people calm and was unable to keep an eye on him.

It had been a hell of an evening when the last bomb had exploded before he had had time to call, again, the competent authorities. And it had gone off so close to Greg that he had been hurt. Not badly, at least. That still had been a hell of an evening, though.

And that was a hell of a night since he had run into Y/N at the police station, who had entered into “Mama Bear Mode” as soon as she had seen the state her colleague was in. Detective Lestrade had had no choice but to sit on the edge of her desk while she searched for a first aid kit. The truth was Greg had expected Y/N to be at the station, hoped for it. But he wouldn’t admit it out loud, he still had some pride, hidden somewhere, and cared for it. But when she started to apply some antiseptic on the cuts on his face, he couldn’t help but squirming.

“By Jove! Stay still, Greg, it’s enough a mess as is, no need to add some more!”

Y/N was right, but the Detective wasn’t in a good mood. He was tired, especially tired to be yelled at.

“It would be less of a mess if you weren’t that rough! And I think I had a sufficiently bad week enough to deserve some kindness right now, thank you very much.”

Well, Greg wasn’t entirely honest: Y/N wasn’t _that_ rough, far from it, really. But, again, he was tired, tired of being yelled at and tired of acting like he didn’t feel anything inconvenient for the young lady. Don’t ask too much, even from men of good will like Greg Lestrade.

“Oh, poor little Greg… You sissy!”

“ _Sissy?!_ ”

“Ok, that was maybe a bit harsh. Is “you child” better?”

If there was an arbiter to count points in their squabble, he would have conceded a point to each.

“First, **_despite what you think, I am completely capable of taking care of myself_** , second, no, “you child” isn’t better because I’m far older than you! I could be your bloody dad!”

Point to Detective Lestrade.

Y/N started to blush, but answer all the same:

“First, try to tell me this again when you look a bit more like yourself and less like a human rag, second, you’re not my _bloody dad,_ so shut up and stay still!”

Point to Detective Y/N.

“But it _hurts_!”

“I know, but it would hurt less if you could stop wriggling in every way! And if you didn’t find it was a good idea to stand right next to a primed bomb in the first place!”

“And what was I supposed to do? Waiting quietly for these assholes from demining service to come without being sure no civilian was near the bomb? Better me than them!”

“And that’s how you end up all bloody on the top of my desk, and it’s why I have to take care of you! What do you think _I_ am supposed to do? Bibbidi Bobbidi Boo and hop! Lestrade is all right again, thank you, next one!”

“Even if you were able to do magic stuff, you wouldn’t, you love seeing me suffer too much.”

“Maybe. Or maybe I’m just trying to keep you from a big infection. Whatever floats your boat.”

Point to… No one. Timeout. Greg wasn’t tired enough to be unable to understand he was really acting like a child. He felt a little ashamed and immediately decided he would make it up to Y/N as soon as possible. She wasn’t forced to take care of him, after all, but she was doing it anyway. Under all her layers of sass and pride, she was as sweet as honey, so kind, so ready to help, so… _Crap… One more adjective and you’re ready to start a diary like a bloody teenager, Greg! Keep calm._ But, even with all these good resolutions, that was _really_ hurting… The Detective tried to hide a hiss of pain and failed. Y/N stopped her task at hand and looked straight into Greg’s eyes.

“Fine, very well, where doesn’t it hurt?”

Quite puzzled, Lestrade took a moment to try to understand why she was asking this question, then gave up (he was definitely too tired) and pointed half-hearted to his elbow. It was with great surprise he saw Y/N bend towards him to kiss the said elbow. _Oh my…_

“Where else?”

If he had been less exhausted, Greg might have considered stopping this. He was a grown man with no need for magic healer kisses, he was a respectable Detective running the criminal division of Scotland Yard. He was head over heels for Y/N, far too pleased by her behaviour and aroused by their sweet bickering. In other words: he was _f*cked_. 

It took him a little less than three seconds to point at his scraped forehead and even less for Y/N to land another light kiss where the Detective had told her. Softly, this time, as the blush on her cheeks darkening, she asked again:

“Where else?”

Did you ever hear about the law of Azais? Azais was a French philosopher from the 18th and 19th centuries, he was pretending to explain all the vicissitudes of human destinies by the law of compensation. Said clearly: Azais thought Destiny, Life, God, whatever superhuman force people believe in kept a ledger about happiness and troubles, and that credits equals the flow; for a misfortune, an equal happiness will happen and vice versa. Greg Lestrade never had had much time to think about philosophy and law of compensation, but if he had known about it, he probably would have thought it was true; standing next to an exploding bomb was a right price for having Y/N kissing his lips, since it had been the place he had pointed to after his forehead. It had been a slow, shy, trembling kiss, delightfully contrasting with the playfulness of their previous row. When they broke apart, gasping for air, Y/N hided her embarrassment behind another layer of brusqueness, putting away the first aid kit:

“Ok, enough sweetness for tonight, off of my desk now!”

But Greg wasn’t fooled, he still could feel the heat emanating from her body, the trembling of her lips against his own. With a charming smile, he decided, however, to play along:

“Oh, already?”

“All good things come to an end.”

“What if I have a sweet-tooth?”

“Be careful and go to your dentist.”

“But I’m really craving for some sweets…”

Greg saw Y/N biting her lips while avoiding his gaze and, the next moment, she was on him, ravishing his mouth, pawing at the collar of his shirt. Between two kisses, she managed to whisper:

“Let’s leave.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want all of Scotland Yard to know how sweet I can be if I really want to.”

“Honey… You’re tooth-rotting.”

“Shut up and get out before I change my mind!”

Maybe Greg should have been afraid about what Life meant for him, all this bliss certainly wouldn’t be free, according to Azais. He couldn’t care less, no price would be too expensive for him to be able to hold Y/N in his arms. And they say everything is cheaper for two, don't they?

[Tumblr](https://i-m-sherlocked-twice.tumblr.com/)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading <3


End file.
